Connection, Disconnected
by Enula
Summary: "He said we had a connection. Then he pulled away and we were no longer connected." Sam/Josh pre-game smutty smut. Rated M for language and sexy good times.


_AN: The idea for the story did not even exist until five hours ago-but wherever it came from, I'm glad it wrote itself because now I can dedicate it to my bestestestest friend and soulmate, Morgan (Mogitz, go read her stories if you haven't already!). Happy one year of the best friendship EVER and also, Merry Christmas! Here's your first present! Love you!_

 _Also another warning: Rated M-mmmmmm for language and smut._

* * *

 **Connection, Disconnected**

 _"_ _He said we had a connection. Then he pulled away and we were no longer connected."_

"We have a connection, right?" This was the last thing Sam expected Josh to ask her as she got up to leave. It was well past two a.m., the time where nothing good ever happens—especially when questions like his are asked. There were too many responses.

 _"_ _Of course we do, Josh. Your sisters were my best friends…"_ Which he knew already. They wouldn't even know each other if it wasn't for his sisters, but admitting they were connected only because of his dead (or, presumably dead; no one wanted to say they gave up but everyone had) siblings sounded harsh. Untrue even. They were fated to end up this way.

 _"_ _What do you mean?"_ Asking this in return would indicate that she disagreed and had no idea what he was talking about, or she wanted him to elaborate. But again, two a.m. conversations could go down a bad path.

 _"_ _Maybe you should get some sleep."_ Putting him off. That's a sure way to let him down gently. Not that she wanted to. Because what she really wanted to say was—

 _"_ _I would like us to be more connected."_ And maybe her voicing nothing at all but speaking with her eyes told him this. His large eyes searched hers; she could see the uncertainty and insanity and pain and self-hate in those iced-window-like eyes of his. It was like looking at her reflection and seeing some hidden part of herself becoming personified inside of him. She was too scared to hold on, but he was too scared to let go.

"Josh…"

He blinked out of his trance. She wished he would talk to her more about his therapy sessions. She didn't want to believe him unwell, but he used to be so full of life, always telling jokes and pulling harmless (yet often jump worthy) pranks on her and Hannah and Beth.

"We have a connection," it wasn't a question this time when he said it to her, "And I want to tell you—," he let out a long breath and offered her a short lived smirk that wasn't all there, " _everything."_

"Then _tell_ me," she pleaded in a rushed voice, somehow gliding around the coffee table that had been separating them all evening. She sat down next to him on the couch that usually felt too stiff to her but somehow felt just right at that moment. "Tell me…" she tried again, her tone calmer. Her fingers twitched before she reached for the sleeve of his plaid shirt. The fabric was soft and she found herself tugging on it and rubbing it between her fingers.

If only they knew how the small act made both their stomachs flip and drop. It reminded Josh of his favorite amusement park ride that only appeared once a year. It was a haunted mansion ride—it was pitch black most of the time and all the sudden drops and sharp turns were completely unexpected. He missed it this year.

"Will you watch a movie with me?" Josh asked; he sounded like a ten year old asking for permission to stay up late. Her disappointed facial features didn't go unnoticed though—the way her eyebrows narrowed then furrowed—the way her pouty lips curved down. _Her structure is like a work of art._

"It's—," _late,_ but he already knew that when he asked and she couldn't say no. So she nodded and let him take her hand as he led her to the theater room even though she knew exactly where it was.

"Let me guess," she said when they entered the dark room save for the projector light, " _Nightmare on Elm Street? Friday the 13_ _th_ _? The Omen?"_

"C'mon now…" was all he said, giving her a side glance that made her roll her eyes.

 _"_ _House on Haunted Hill?"_

"1959," he elaborated as he waved the film before setting it up.

She pointed two fingers at her eyes before waving them over to Josh, "Connection, right?"

He nodded and smiled; it was something she'd been missing recently and wished she could get him to do more of. She took a seat in the back row as he got the film started behind her. Her eyes squinted as the _flip-flip-flash_ of the white screen came into focus, "If you smile during the whole movie, I might just watch you instead."

Her voice was light with laughter though she couldn't have been more serious. But Josh didn't answer. She waited for him to sit beside her, but a few moments passed and he still wasn't there. The beginning credits came on the screen and she raised an eyebrow.

"Josh, if you left me alone in here to—," she turned in her seat but screamed when Josh suddenly appeared in front of her. She smacked him on his arm but that didn't stop him from gripping both of her armrests, staring down at her as he trapped her in her seat. "You're an ass sometimes, you know that?"

He mimicked a small explosion sound as he rolled his head, "Mind blown!"

Sam's lips pulled up against her better judgement. She accidentally made contact with his shirt again, tugging on it gently. Her lips parted slightly and her eyes teased, "You're gonna miss your movie if you don't sit down."

He squinted his eyes as they moved quickly from side to side as though he was studying her face as fast as possible before an exam. She leaned forward slightly, trying to get him to meet her gaze, "What are you looking for?"

"A connection." His voice had lowered and the monotonous way in which he spoke didn't match his words, "How do I know we're not the ones who are missing?"

She swallowed roughly. She couldn't help but wonder if these were the kind of questions he asked his therapist. Or if these were only his most secret thoughts that he shared with her. _She_ wasn't missing, but she couldn't be positive about him. It had been nearly eight months since his sisters disappeared and there was hardly any trace of who he used to be.

"I'm joking," he said after waiting a long time for her to not say anything, "It's just a plot to a movie I'm thinking about making. About this couple who think they're the ones looking but they're actually being looked _for._ Rated ASS, for _Awesome Sauce—Seriously."_

She laughed despite herself, looking down to hide her smile by pulling in her lips. But when she looked back up, she realized that Josh was still leaning over her and had gotten closer.

"About a _couple?"_ She asked lowly and she thought she saw a glimmer of life in his dark eyes.

Josh chuckled shortly, " _That's_ the only thing you took away from my summary?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, she ghosted her hands up his arms to feel the fabric of his collar, "Maybe. Do they have a connection?"

She wasn't sure how, but his eyes darkened even further as he leaned closer to her, stopping only to see if she'd flinch away. She didn't. His voice was a harsh whisper when he said, " _Bold,_ Sammy."

"Don't call me that," she murmured, then, against her better judgement (no—against _any_ judgement because she could hardly think and she felt delirious, but maybe she was connecting to his brain and this was how he always felt) she kissed him. They both stiffened, and it was a mixture of their nervousness and having talked all night, but their lips were dry, yet when they parted, they were still close enough for her tongue to lick his lips as well as hers.

"You taste just like I imagined," he said to her, and she knew his eyes remained open as she kissed him again, even though hers were closed.

"How's that?" she asked, tugging on his collar to bring him closer.

He didn't answer and she assumed he had no words for it because she didn't either. He lifted the right armrest then slid into the seat beside her. His right arm rested on the back of the seats while his left hand found her face, cupping her cheek then sliding down to her chin, gliding to her neck…

"Why are you watching me?" She opened her eyes to see him staring at her just like she guessed.

He shook his head while lazily raising his shoulders, "Why wouldn't I?"

Her heart fluttered and she wondered if Josh always had this romantic side to him. How was he saying all the right things? No guy should be able to do that—especially a guy like _Josh:_ Horror movie fanatic who liked going into prop and magic shops to laugh over cheesy gag gifts.

She kissed him again, keeping her eyes open this time as well to remain connected to his gaze. It was almost awkward because she never kissed someone with her eyes open before, but his stare was spellbinding and she thought maybe he was hypnotizing her.

Her body felt twisted in the current position, so she boldly turned to him and swung one of her legs over him. Straddling felt much more comfortable and she liked it better when _she_ was looking down at _him._

"Powe _rrrr,"_ Josh lingered the _R s_ ound, his fingers squeezing her hips before sliding up to her waist. It sounded like he was purring, or growling, but also unfocused.

"Have you been drinking?" she asked him even though she knew he hadn't since she was with him all night, but then again, they did have a few sodas and she was feeling kind of dizzy, and maybe she shouldn't put it past Josh to not spike their drinks.

"Been sober for seven months, twenty-two days, and fifteen hours," he brought his mouth to hers, their nervousness gone, their lips gliding together fast and easily.

 _"_ _You made up the hours,"_ she wanted to tease, but the flashing projector was like bolts of lightning behind her half-lidded eyes and she was past the point of caring whether or not Josh spiked their drinks. She didn't realize how much she wanted this until this very moment, and all those months and late nights being with him led to this and she didn't want it to end.

 _"_ _This connection—it's undeniable,"_ again, something she wanted to tell him but her mouth was too busy tasting his, then remembering to exhale air when his lips found the base of her neck and the pads of his fingertips found the sensitive skin under her shirt.

She wanted to take control—always thought she _would_ be in control when she imagined this moment (and there was no denying that she did—she longed to be his heroine—so many times…) but when his hand found the clip in her hair and tossed it away, the feel of his touch in her long locks, tugging and massaging then tugging again, she knew he was in control and maybe that's what he needed all along. To know he could control something and _God help her_ but if this is what it took to get the old Josh back, she'd lay back and let him control her forever.

Josh tugged at her shirt and she raised her arms to allow him to slip it over her head. She shook her hair free of the clothing, the locks tumbling over her shoulders as she looked down at him, and it seemed it was now Josh who was mesmerized.

 _"_ _Fuck,_ you're too beautiful—," it almost pained him to say this, but she took the compliment, biting her bottom lip gently as she brought him to her. His mouth found the curves of her breasts and she allowed her head to drop back, feeling the tips of her hair against her lower back.

Her hips moved forward and that's when she felt the bulge in his jeans. Though this should have triggered a reality check in her mind, she somehow continued to lose herself in him. Her fingers found the button and zipper she was looking for and Josh shifted. He began mumbling curse words against her skin, but he wasn't telling her to stop so she chalked it up to him preparing himself for her cool hand to reach in and grab him.

His moan vibrated against her chest and she tensed her legs; the tingling between her thighs intensified quickly upon just hearing him and _damn it,_ she wanted that connection _now._

Her bra had the clutch in the front which he undid with a quick _snap_ and she only felt her breasts bounce freely for a fast moment before he had them in his grasp and roamed his tongue around her most sensitive areas.

 _"_ _Josh!"_ Her voice got stuck in her throat and her hips thrust forward on their own accord, and her hand felt twisted but she was determined to keep her grasp on him, especially when he shifted enough to allow her to pull him out and feel the wetness that was already making it easier to caress him.

He pulsed, and then he grabbed her hips and pushed her off of him. Her butt hit the back of the chair behind her, but she didn't get a chance to ask what was wrong before he was unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, his mouth on her flat stomach and his tongue teasing her bellybutton.

Her jeans and panties were to her knees in a second and he wasted no time in trailing his fingers up her inner thighs.

"Help me," she whispered quickly, trying to get her tight jeans down to her ankles, glad that she never got a chance to get her shoes on (one less obstacle is always good). Josh did as she asked, his hands sweeping down to her ankles to free her of her clothing. He kissed her inner thigh, his face brushing against a spot that made her jump and push him back before he could go any further.

His look was questioning, but she merely shrugged as she leaned over to help him get out of his own jeans, "Save _that_ for next time…"

"Next time…" he echoed distantly, his eyes never leaving hers as he lifted his hips to rid himself of his clothes as well.

Sam laughed as she straddled him again, sweeping his shirt over his head before connecting their eyes and mouth again, "But let's focus on _this_ time for right now, okay?"

"Okay…" he replied almost dumbly because he was so taken away by her. He opened his mouth to say something else but all that came out was an audible groan as Sam lowered herself around him, " _fuck fuck fuck fuck, you're so wet, Samantha…"_

She shivered at his words and the complete connection they made. She didn't want to move quite yet as she loved studying his face as wave after wave of pleasure took him to another place even though they haven't even got started yet.

"You were going to say something," she teased, merely wanting to hear his strained voice.

"Uhh…" he swallowed, his mouth suddenly full of saliva and he had to talk himself into not drooling, "I was gonna say—you're too good for me…"

Sam rolled her eyes playfully and raised her hips to sink them back down, "Stop lying." But she saw that look in his eyes and knew he really thought that because she had shown him how strong she was for the past eight months while he showed her how broken he was. But he didn't know that he was so much stronger than her for letting that out instead of keeping it bottled inside, letting it slowly kill her. She pressed her forehead to his and continued to move on him slowly, "You're perfect, Josh."

She kissed him before he could protest, then began to rock her hips back and forth. They moaned into each other's mouths and he was already hitting her sweet spot. Her fingers twitched against his shoulders and she couldn't help herself when her hand flew down between them where she could touch herself. _One, two, three, four_ fast rocks and then her high-pitched moan was drowned into his mouth as she clenched around him, her first orgasm hitting her almost out of nowhere.

"Damn, Sammy…" he teased her with the nickname, his voice strained to the point of hitching, but her sweaty face against his only made him dig his fingertips harder into her hips, "You gonna do me like that?"

She laughed breathily as the pulsing began to calm, "Here's the _next_ time you were talking about."

He chuckled then held his breath as her tightness was almost unbearable, yet looking between them, he was able see how easily he slipped in and out of her. His eyes roamed up her body until their eyes connected again.

"Are you—?" He felt it his duty to ask.

"The pill," she answered quickly, wanting to jokingly congratulate him on thinking of that _now_ but her body was still too sensitive and she wanted to focus on his gorgeous eyes and mouth and hands and sounds—

His eyes were like watching storm clouds roll in. They were naturally large and reflected whatever was around him, and the black and white movie with the bight projector was like being near the ocean during a dangerous yet fascinating storm. His fingers dug into her skin and she secretly hoped she'd be able to see the light bruises there as a reminder that this actually happened. She allowed him to take control once again and she moaned his name over and over until he couldn't control his own moans and their connection became deeper than ever before.

She laid against his skin, their sweat gluing them together. He lazily pushed her hair out of their faces and he smiled when she kissed the side his mouth, "Five minutes into horror movie and chill..."

Sam grinned and kissed him again, "You tell anyone else that line and it'll be like it never existed."

"Fair enough."

She sighed heavily as she carefully disconnected herself from him and stood up.

"Here, let me get you a towel," he said quickly as he rushed into the adjourning bathroom to the theater. He came back with two white towels, smiling when she took one from him gratefully and wiped herself down before wrapping it around her body.

He grinned and made a makeshift camera with his hands, Sam in the center, "A beautiful girl in only a towel in an empty movie theater. I know what my next project is gonna be."

She scrunched her face and shook her head, "Nah, too teen slasher, don't you think?"

Josh merely shrugged, "Don't judge until you see it."

Sam smiled slightly as Josh finally wrapped the second towel around his waist. He was so skinny—she hoped he was eating okay. He usually had a lot of pizza when she brought some over, but she knew his parents were hardly ever around and never thought to ask whether he was feeding himself any other time.

She tip-toed toward him then hugged him hard, "I hope after tonight you open up to me more…"

With his index finger, he touched his head then hers, "It takes a connection to—make a connection," he joked as he tickled her thigh. Then he put on a straight face, "And…you're the only one that understands me."

Her eyes softened, "Just make sure you talk to me, okay?"

"I'll work on it," he promised her, "…can we finish watching the movie?"

* * *

 _"_ _I thought we were close. After his sisters—he'd come and talk to me. He said I was the only one who understood him. I thought—I thought we had a connection."_


End file.
